Somewhere
by astraplain
Summary: Florian's debt is being held by someone new. Will they be better than his current master?
1. Chapter 1

:Gorgeous Carat belongs to You Higuri:

"Not those." The small box of tie pins and cufflinks was torn out of his hands but before Florian could react, a laugh drew his attention.

"Let him take them, Saunders." Lord Wellesford chided his servant. "After all, I did add them to his debt along with the cost of his clothes and everything else. My dear Florian carries quite an impressive price tag." Wellesford moved in close and took the box, setting it in the trunk before placing his hand on Florian's face. "You'll want to be very nice to your next benefactor. He's paid a princely for your pretty face and..." Wellesford put his arm around Florian and pulled him close, pressing their bodies together intimately. "...your other charms."

Florian worked hard not to push away from the vile, brutish man who'd owned him for the last three years. He'd learned early on how much the man enjoyed it when Florian struggled, so the blond had trained himself not to. And finally it had paid off - Wellesford had grown tired of him and had sold off his debt to another aristocrat. He only hoped that his new "benefactor" would be kinder that this one.

"Finished packing?" Wellesford asked Saunders, keeping a firm hold on Florian. When the servant closed the trunk and lugged it away, Wellesford turned his attention back to Florian.

"No use pretending to be sorry for leaving, boy. I know you hate me - not that I care - but your little fits of illness have become tiresome. Perhaps your new owner will have the patience to indulge you. Although if the rumors are true... Well, you'll know soon enough, won't you?"

"Yes, Lord Wellesford."

"So formal, my boy. Especially for someone who lay under me moaning just a few hours ago. I admit I will miss how... responsive you are."

Florian blushed and pulled away, grateful that Wellesford allowed it. He just wanted this horrible business over with. If only his new master would be more even tempered and less fond of inflicting pain.

"Come on then, Florian. Say your proper thank you for all my years of tender care." Wellesford grabbed Florian kissing and groping him roughly until Florian whimpered. "I will miss that sound." Wellesford said as he stepped back, finally releasing Florian. Still, the new boy is pretty enough and much sturdier than you."

"Come on, then, let's get you gone." He took Florian's arm and hurried him from the room, not permitting him even a final look around at the room that had been his home for the last three years. The rapid pace continued down the stairs and through the house out to the carriage that was waiting at the servant's entrance. Wellesford groped Florian one last time as he helped the blond up into the carriage.

"You're to accompany him to the new place and return promptly with the papers. Mind that they're properly signed where I've marked." Wellesford shoved a leather case at Saunders and watched as the servant climbed into the carriage with Florian. He nodded once to both men and walked away as the carriage started to move.

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"You might as well sleep," Saunders growled at Florian once they'd left the Wellesford estate. "It's a long ride and I hate idle conversation. Besides, you'll want to look your best for your new benefactor or he'll be shipping you off too. Can't be many left who think you're worth the price." Saunders laughed loudly at his own wit.

Florian turned his head and closed his eyes but remained alert, knowing better than to actually sleep. Saunders wasn't to be trusted in the best of circumstances, but alone like this - Florian was determined not to let his guard down for one minute. At least with his eyes closed, he didn't have to see the lust in the other man's eyes. Florian had endured many unwanted touches - and worse - from that man, quite often for Lord Wellesford's amusement but sometimes when they were alone as well. His only hope on this long journey was that Saunders wouldn't risk doing anything to anger Florian's new benefactor.

Florian offered up a silent prayer, then wondered why he bothered - who would hear the prayers of someone less than a whore? At least whores were paid for their services; he was more like an indentured servant. Orphaned at 12, he was taken in by his Uncle Maurice. Within the year, Maurice had squandered all of Florian's inheritance. A few months later Florian was sold to pay off Maurice's gambling debts.

Fortunately for Florian, an old friend of his father was the buyer and Florian spent four lovely years as his companion. He'd fallen in love with the lively bachelor and they had been happy together - traveling, attending the theatre, or simply staying at home and reading or working in the garden. But early one winter morning, Lord Henri St Pierre had gone out alone and had never returned. They found his horse near the river but they never found his body. After a month of waiting, Henri's sister had him declared dead and claimed his estate. She had never approved of Florian's relationship with her brother. Mere days after she'd taken over Henri's estate, she'd sent Florian off to the countryside with Lord Wellesford. Florian hadn't seen or heard from her since.

It wasn't that Wellesford kept him isolated. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy dressing Florian in fine clothes and parading him around at parties or in fashionable restaurants. But Florian quickly learned the difference between being loved by someone and being used by them. Lord Wellesford enjoyed using people.

Absently, Florian rubbed at the small scar on the inside of his left wrist. He had a matching one on the other wrist - permanent reminders of the long hours he'd spent restrained by cold iron and an even colder master. He was fortunate Lord Wellesford valued him mostly unscarred or he'd carry marks much worse than these.

"Rise and shine your Grace." Saunders leaned over and prodded Florian's side, making the blond sit up and take notice of their surroundings. "Time for the train."

Florian barely waited for the carriage to stop before he descended, glad to put more space between him and his loathsome companion. He nodded his thanks to the carriage driver who drove off after unloading Florian's trunk and handing it over to one of the railway workers.

"Get on then. We're in there." Saunders led the way onto the train and into a first class car that had been reserved for them. Wellesford had laughed when he'd told Florian about the travel arrangements, assuring the blond that it had all been added to his debt with a bit extra for his Lordship's troubles. It was worth it, Florian decided. At least he had a sleeping compartment to himself.

Florian declined Saunders' invitation to the dining car, making both men happy. In truth, Florian's stomach was always a bit unsettled when traveling, but this time, he could barely tolerate even the thought of food. Instead, he was content to spend the night in private, a rare luxury that he enjoyed, despite the uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring.

By morning, when the train arrived in Paris, he was well-rested and cautiously optimistic.

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	2. Chapter 2

"A representative for Lord Wellesford to see Lord Courland." Saunders took off his hat and gave the dark-skinned girl in the doorway a half-bow. He didn't quite manage to hide his sneer of contempt at her odd clothing but she simply nodded and moved back to allow the visitors to enter.

"He's expecting you. This way. Jean-Claude will see to your trunk." She motioned to the tall, thin man who'd been standing just out of view, then turned and hurried away forcing the men to follow, still with their coats on and hats in hand. She stopped in front of a door halfway down a short hall, but hesitated before turning the knob.

"He has another meeting in half an hour. You'll want to make this quick." A light tap on the door and she opened it without waiting for a reply.

"Lord Wellesford's representative and Duke du Rochefort." The girl said before turning to leave. On the way past she caught Florian's eye and gave him a wink. Before he could respond, she was gone, closing the door behind her.

"Lord Courland." Saunders moved forward, hand outstretched in greeting. The gesture was ignored as the man behind the desk leaned back in his chair and studied him.

"Shall we spare the niceties? You have papers for me to sign?"

"I do sir." Saunders fumbled a bit with the case, at a loss for how to behave in this situation. Lord Wellesford was a stickler for proper etiquette and had no patience for mistakes.

"Let's have it man." The man behind the desk rose, leaning over to snatch the case away from the hapless servant. It gave Florian the chance to study his new master - although he didn't risk looking for too long and drawing attention to himself. Still, it was hard to take his eyes away from the tall, handsome man in exotic Arabian garb. And his eyes... they were a vibrant green, reminding him a little of Henri.

"Everything is as we agreed." Lord Courland announced after scanning the documents. He returned to his seat and signed the papers, blotting them before sliding them into an envelope and sealing it with wax imprinted with his seal.

"Well then. As agreed, the remaining payment is to be in jewels. Courland lifted a rectangular leather case from his desk and opened it, allowing Saunders a glimpse of the contents - a dazzling array of gems. He snapped it closed again, then slid the case into a valise which he locked. He placed the key in an envelope and sealed it, showing the address to Saunders.

"The courier will be here in precisely three minutes to pick this up. It will reach Lord Wellesford at approximately the same time you do, unless you miss your train. Sign here signifying that you've received the jewels and that you've seen the key sent according to Wellesford's terms."

Courland paused while Saunders signed the document, then took it and set it aside for the ink to dry. He stood up holding the envelope containing the key and gestured for the two men to follow him from the room. He led them back to the entry hall where they stood awkwardly until the courier arrived and was sent away again with the letter.

"Sorry to rush you, but you do have a train to catch. My regards to Wellesford." Ray gestured for Saunders to step out of the house, barely letting him clear the door before closing it.

"Laila!" Courland bellowed - a completely unnecessary effort as she was already approaching. "How many more meetings with idiots today?" he demanded, pretending not to notice Florian's surprised and bewildered expression.

"None today. Two meetings tomorrow, but only one idiot. The other is with Carrisford."

"An oasis of sanity." He turned and gestured for Florian. "Come on then, Laila's arranged for a meal and then you'll get the tour."

"Ray..." Laila put out a hand to stop Courland. "The poor man's head must be spinning. Let him clean up at least before you drag him off."

"Sir..." Florian said timidly, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

"None of that. At least not when it's just us. I can't stand all that formality - it gives me indigestion. Laila's right; you'll enjoy your meal more once you've cleaned up. Henri once told me you didn't travel well."

"Henri?" Florian's eyes lit up. "Did you know him, sir?"

"Clean up first, then questions. Come on then. I'm starving." Courland ignored the noise Laila made and led Florian to a guest bathroom where he washed his face and hands quickly and made an attempt to smooth back his hair.

"At last, food!" Ray led Florian into a large dining room, the table set for two with an array of silver-domed dishes waiting for them. "She wouldn't let me eat anything since breakfast." Courland dropped into his chair and picked up a fork, pointing it at Laila. The dark-haired girl stuck her tongue out at her master, then laughed and starting removing the covers from the dishes.

"Eat every bite or cook will be in a mood and it'll be sauerkraut for a week." Laila said cheerfully as she poured wine for Florian and then Courland.

"Then go get a plate and join us. With you here there might barely be enough."

"So you want me to tell cook you love lima beans, do you?" Laila countered as she produced another table setting from the buffet and took a seat opposite Florian. She piled food onto her plate and started eating immediately.

Florian merely blinked, looking between the two of them and wondering if he was dreaming. When they both smiled at him and continued to eat, he tentatively reached for a scone and the pot of honey butter. He had a fondness for them both but Lord Wellesford had rarely permitted him to indulge. Despite his intent to eat slowly and sparingly, the scone all but disappeared once he'd taken the first bite. He desperately wanted another but didn't dare overstep his boundaries.

"I hope you can eat more of those." Laila said casually between bites of the various items on her full plate. "Cook loves to make scones but Ray and I can't begin to eat them all. You'd make her very happy if we sent the breadbasket back empty for once."

Florian looked over at Courland but the man was cutting his meat and didn't seem to be paying attention.

It was only after the second scone was gone - more slowly than the first - that Florian dared to try a bit of the other dishes. Before he realized it he was full and somewhat sleepy. Ray and Laila had chatted about the house and grounds as well as the shops and parks in the area throughout the meal. For the first time in a long while, eating had been a pleasant experience.

"I imagine you're curious about many things." Courland said once they'd all finished eating. He pushed his plate aside and stood up. Let's go into the next room and I'll try to answer some of them."

It was something of a surprise that Laila joined them but Florian was glad for her presence. She seemed friendly while Courland was still very much a mystery. Why would the man have spent so much to buy out his debt? What did he want?

"I suppose formalities should be observed, although it seems a bit late." Courland decided. "Duke Florian du Rochefort, this is Laila, my most trusted assistant. And I am Count Ray Balzac Courland - as you know. I prefer to be called Ray by those in my household, which now includes you."

Ray extracted a slim case from inside his robes and opened it to reveal cigars. He offered one to Florian but the blond shook his head and smiled. Ray took one and lit it, leaning back for a moment to savor it.

He turned his eyes to Florian again and once again he was reminded of Henri. "Please... Ray" Florian almost stumbled over the name but then continued as bravely as he could. "How did you know Henri St Pierre?"

"Straight to the point then, as I should have expected." Ray smiled gently at Florian letting him know there was no reason to be fearful. "Henri was my uncle. We corresponded frequently while I was at school. In those last few years, his letters often contained stories about his dear Florian. We're about the same age and he thought it might amuse me to read about your adventures."

"Ray? But..." Florian remembered the letters clearly but they'd always been addressed to... "Sir Night? A knight most loyal brave and true?"

"Correct." Ray said, laughing. "Henri did love puns and riddles, as you well remember. "It was an old joke between us that would mean nothing to anyone else."

Without warning, Florian's eyes filled with tears. For so long he'd done everything he could to avoid thinking of Henri √ not wanting those precious memories tainted by Wellesford. But now... those eyes.

Discretely Ray signaled for Laila to leave and she slipped silently out of the room. Ray moved close to Florian and offered his hand. "It took me longer than I wanted, but I've finally rescued you." Ray offered his hand and slowly Florian reached up and accepted it. He allowed himself to be guided to his feet and for just the barest moment, his body rested against Ray's.

"He called you his greatest treasure, you know. His Amethyst."

At the sound of that intimate name, Florian's tears overflowed. It wasn't the name itself, but the tender, careful way it was said that convinced him. He was safe here. He'd be loved here. He was home.

:END part 2:


	3. Chapter 3

Epilogue (in drabble format)

"Saunders has a fondness for cigars." Florian said conversationally, leaning back against the pillows and looking quite at ease in Ray's dressing gown. "He leaves one of the patio doors in Lord Wellesford's study unlocked so he can sneak out and smoke."

"Bad habit." Ray commented neutrally, the remains of his latest cigar still smoldering in the ashtray.

"It would be worse if Wellesford knew. The key to the desk is under the cigar box. His money's in the safe, of course. But the jewelry is in the desk."

"Is it?"

"Indeed." Florian smiled. "Bring me a souvenir, won't you"

:end:

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Note: This is the end of this series for now, although I'll probably revisit it eventually.

Thank you for reading this story.


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